


Beautifully Chaotic

by HiddenTreasures



Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: F/M, Musical Instruments, Romance, Tenderness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-19
Updated: 2016-05-19
Packaged: 2018-06-09 11:20:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,123
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6903793
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HiddenTreasures/pseuds/HiddenTreasures
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Doctor gives Rose an impromptu musical instrument lesson.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Beautifully Chaotic

**Author's Note:**

> This was written for and prompted by kelkat9 over on Tumblr.

Rose was restless. She should be exhausted, what with not having slept in over twenty-four hours save for a few short naps. Yet here she was, tossing and turning and grumbling to her pillows, trying to clear her mind even as it wandered down the hall to where the Doctor was sleeping. She hoped he was having a better time of it, as she angrily wrenched the sheets off of her and rolled out of bed. Tea. Hopefully a midnight cuppa would soothe her nerves and allow her to get a bit of shut eye. If not, there was always that cold medicine in the cabinet…

As she passed the Doctor’s room, she heard a faint noise coming from within. She paused, and leaned closer to the shut door. It took a few seconds for her ears to pick it up, but she heard a gentle melody coming from within. She didn’t think twice before quietly pushing open the door.

The music was clearer now, and it was a beautifully haunting melody, somber and melancholic, and Rose’s stomach ached as she listened to it.

“Don’t stop,” she whispered when the Doctor finally noticed her and took his hands off of the instrument. “Please?”

The Doctor continued staring at her, but he put his hand back on the small instrument. It was no larger than her mobile phone, which Rose had first mistaken it for. The Doctor had it cradled delicately in his palm, and he brought the fingers of his other hand up to stroke the grooves and bumps scattered across the instrument’s surface.

The melody had changed slightly, and though it was still one of the saddest tunes Rose had ever heard, there was an underlying lightness and hope within the clear, low notes. The sound was unlike anything Rose had ever heard, some sort of cross between a cello, a flute, and a woman’s low alto singing voice. It was beautiful.

“What is that?” she asked, creeping towards him to get a better look at the instrument in his hand. The Doctor scooted over in his bed to make room for her, and she automatically sat beside him, mirroring his position to lean against the headboard. “It’s beautiful.”

“It’s called a plenaria,” the Doctor said quietly, continuing to play the instrument as he spoke. Rose marveled at how the melody continued to change and evolve, and her stomach twisted now with a sense of nostalgia and longing. “Found it in my pockets.”

He gestured to the corner of the room where his blue suit lay draped across a chair, with various bits and bobs scattered across the desk.

“Kinda reminds me of the musical instrument from van Statten’s museum,” Rose mused softly. “D’you remember?”

The Doctor stopped playing as the melody turned harsh and grating, causing them both to wince.

“Of course I do,” he said indignantly. “Same man, Rose. Same memories. Not copies, _the same_. Everything you I and have ever done together is still up here.” He tapped at his temple.

“Right,” she said. “Sorry. It’s just…weird.”

The Doctor snorted softly.

“Tell me about it.”

They sat together in a heavy silence, neither knowing what to say.

“Can you teach me how to play?” Rose suddenly asked, gesturing towards the plenaria.

“Of course,” the Doctor said, picking up the instrument and handing it to Rose. “This is one of the easiest instruments in the universe to play. It’s slightly telepathic. Or, well, empathic, more like. All of these bumps and grooves are sensitized to read hormone levels, pressure, neural patterns, and such, and it takes that data and converts it into a tune to suit your mood. Brilliant, isn’t it? It’s from the planet Nexavarius, the twin planet of Myton, the planet where that instrument from van Statten’s museum came from.”

Rose’s heart fluttered with warmth as she listened to him. She’d missed his rambling explanations and his excitement for new things. It was reassuring to hear it once more from this man who was inexplicably but undoubtedly her Doctor.

She tentatively ran her index finger over the bumps and grooves on the surface of the instrument. A discordant melody filtered through the room, and her fingertip tingled. She retracted her hand from the unexpected sensation.

“Sorry, should’ve warned you,” the Doctor said sheepishly. “Always a bit of feedback with telepathy. Sorry.”

“S’okay,” Rose said, running her finger down the instrument again, aware now of the tingle. The melody was still clashing and Rose took her finger away again. “What am I doing wrong?”

“Nothing,” the Doctor said honestly. “Your emotions must be all over the place, is all.”

Rose’s cheeks flushed red. Her emotions were all over the place. She was angry and hurt to be left here once more and without a goodbye; she was relieved to have saved the universe and to have found the Doctor; she was overjoyed that she could still stay with her family and have a Doctor she could grow old with; she was guilty that she had so quickly accepted this new Doctor over her old Doctor; she was confused by what had exactly happened to her Doctor to make him human; and she was absolutely, utterly in love with this man, despite everything else she was feeling.

“It’s okay, you know,” the Doctor said softly, staring at his clasped hands. “To not know what to think or feel. I get it.”

“Your melody sounded so sad,” Rose said. “Are you sad?”

“I wouldn’t call it sad,” he mused. “I miss the TARDIS, of course. But I was mostly thinking about you.”

“Me?” Rose said, taken aback. “I made you feel that sad?”

“Well, I didn’t know if you wanted me around,” he said, still speaking to his hands. “Still don’t.”

“I do,” she said firmly, covering his clasped hands. “I do want you here, Doctor. I’m glad you’re here.”

“Yeah?” he asked, and the hesitancy in his voice nearly broke her heart.

“Yes,” she said, the finality ringing clearly through the room.

The Doctor smiled, and he tentatively raised their clasped hands to his lips. Rose’s skin tingled pleasantly as he pressed soft, quick kisses to the back of her hand.

“Want to try again?” he asked, lifting the instrument and waving it in invitation.

“Nah, it’ll just sound like noise,” Rose said. “As you said, I’m a bit of a mess right now.”

“Well, so am I,” the Doctor said, shrugging. “And it didn’t sound like noise before. There’s a beauty in chaos. Listen.”

The Doctor stroked the instrument, and Rose heard that sorrowful tune once more. Just as she was about to protest, saying that his music was still cleaner than hers, she swallowed her complaint to really _listen_. The lilting sadness was there, but there was also a harsh, angry dissonance. There was slow and sweet love. There was quick and upbeat happiness. All of those emotions weaved together so smoothly to create the haunting melody that all converged until the only thing on Rose’s mind was the beautiful man sitting beside her.

“Your turn,” he said, thrusting it into her hands. “Give it go, c’mon. Please?”

Rose giggled at the large, pleading eyes he was giving her. She’d never been able to say no to them before, and she took the instrument from him once more. She hesitated for just a moment before she ran the tips of her fingers over the bumps and grooves of the instrument, and winced as she heard that awfully harsh noise. She was about to pull her hand back, but the Doctor covered hers with his, forcing her to keep playing.

“Just listen,” he urged. “It’s beautiful.”

Rose scoffed, but continued to play, trying to focus on the noise to find the beauty he could hear.

But all Rose could really focus on was the warm weight of the Doctor’s hand atop of hers. It felt so familiar, and a pang of warmth settled low in her stomach. She inhaled sharply as the music changed slightly; the noise faded and something low and primal and comforting took its place.

“See,” he said, his hot breath tickling her ear. Rose shuddered as more heat pooled in her belly, slipping lower and lower. “Beautiful.”

The music shifted again to something raw and hungry. The clear notes were deep and throbbing in time with Rose’s racing heart. The room was thick with tension, and Rose was very quickly becoming overwhelmed, but she inhaled deeply, trying to organize her scattered thoughts, and she smelled that familiar spicy smell of the Doctor. Her eyes fluttered shut and she tilted her head back to brush her lips against the line of his jaw.

He shuddered beside her as the fingers of the hand that was still covering hers tightened.

“A natural,” the Doctor breathed, his voice low and husky.

He tilted his head down to meet her in the middle. Their lips swiped across each other’s, a barely-there whisper of a kiss, but it was electric nevertheless. Rose carefully set the plenaria aside, and though the music was gone, she could still hear it echoing in her mind, in her very soul. She turned more fully to straddle the Doctor’s thighs and she wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him into a kiss.

It was sweet and slow and languorous, full of lips and tongue and hot, panting breaths. It was the most tender kiss Rose had ever had, and she ached for more. His lips were soft and warm and dry as she traced them with her tongue. His bottom lip teased her until she couldn’t help but suckle it into her mouth, relishing his sharp intake of breath and shuddering moan.

His hands were everywhere: on her hips, at her bum, under her shirt, in her hair. The erratic movement of them warmed Rose’s heart as they fluttered around, never settling. Rose buried her hands into his hair, pleased to be able to do so at last. His hair was silky and thick as she raked her fingers through the soft strands, using it as a handle to deepen the kiss.

They continued for an immeasurable amount of time. It could’ve been minutes, it could’ve been hours, but the only thing the Doctor and Rose were aware of was the warmth of each other’s bodies and the growing heat between them. A wrenching groan from the Doctor when Rose rocked herself against him pulled Rose back to reality.

The Doctor looked thoroughly snogged. His hair was a mess, his lips were bright red and swollen, and there was a glassy, pleased look in his eyes as he looked up at her as though she hung the stars.

“I love you,” she whispered, pressing a long and lingering kiss to his forehead. “But I don’t think I’m ready for…” She nodded down to where he was straining against his pajamas.

The Doctor nodded in agreement, and he closed his eyes and took in a big breath.

“Will you stay?” he finally asked, reopening his eyes. “I’d very much like for you to stay. I’d very much like to fall asleep beside you and wake up beside you. It’s been so long, and I missed you.”

“Yeah, I’ll stay. I missed you too,” she said, carefully climbing off his lap. “D’you need to, erm, y’know…” She gestured to his lap, then to the loo.

The Doctor furrowed his eyebrows in confusion before his eyes popped wide open in understanding as his cheeks stained pink.

“Er, no, I-I’m all right,” he said, his voice jumping an octave. “It’s just…ehm…I can’t seem to make it go away as fast as I used to. I promise I’ll keep my hands to myself, but if-if it’s going to make you uncomfortable…”

“I don’t mind,” Rose said, wriggling her way beneath the sheets. “Just don’t want you to be uncomfortable, is all.”

“Oh, I’m fine,” he said breezily, settling beneath the sheets beside her, and Rose ignored the way he subtly adjusted himself in his pants.

The Doctor opened his arm for her, and she immediately rolled beside him, resting her cheek on his chest and throwing a leg over his. Her muscles all seemed to relax at once, as did his, upon the familiarity of the position. He wrapped his arm securely around her shoulders, and leaned forward to press his lips to her hair.

“Love you,” he sighed softly, tucking the sheet around them more completely.

“Love you, too,” she murmured, her eyes feeling heavy and sore.

Her thoughts had quieted, finally, and with the sound of the Doctor’s heart echoing beneath her ear, Rose fell into the deepest sleep she’d had in years.


End file.
